


Star Sapphire and Damascus Steel

by Annariel



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Atlantis, Bechdel Test Pass, F/M, chemical revolution, second crusade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 11:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5454806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sapphire and Steel are wiped from history, only their original human forms remain.  Can they find their way back to each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forest City of the Imagination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moriwen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriwen/gifts).



> I have always staunchly maintained that part of the beauty of Sapphire and Steel is, to quote your own words, _this show does not explain literally anything_. Then you said " I want to know how elements work and if they have time travel paradoxes and is Steel literally made of steel and are they immortal and what historical events they’ve been there for" and lightbulbs started going off in my mind. So I wrote the thing I've always asked everyone else not to write for me. Thanks for nudging me in a direction I'd explicitly ruled out and would never ever have written were it not for your prompt.
> 
> For good measure I've also thrown in "I headcanon it as Steel being desperately in love with Sapphire and Sapphire having totally platonic feelings towards him"
> 
> Thanks to weakinteraction for beta-reading. Photon, Tau Neutrino and, in particular, W and Z, have been included just to make them happy!

The city was quite beautiful. It stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Its boulevards were filled with greenery and, from the vantage point of High Tower it looked more like a park: a sequence of gardens, some geometrically laid out, some flowing and free. Tall spires emerged above the trees at regular intervals to create a skyline of delicate points and soaring filigree.

The only limit to the city was the imagination. Though, Sapphire thought, not entirely kindly, imagination could be quite limited at times. Beside her Steel was still, but she could feel impatience emanating off him. For him, the view was of little interest.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Air was suddenly with them. These days her form was barely human, she was opaque like thin clouds and it was difficult to tell where the swirling drapes that covered her form ended and flesh and skin began. Here and now, their forms were as illusory as the city outside and the high tower room they were in, but most still reverted to some semblance of the humanity they dimly recalled.

Sapphire inclined her head and smiled. Hers was the role of diplomat, even among their own kind. "It was no trouble."

Air glanced at Steel and a small smile hovered at the corners of her mouth, but she said nothing.

"To business then," she said.

"You have a task for us?" Steel demanded.

"Of sorts, though it is not of the usual kind and you will need to proceed with caution."

"What is it?" 

"I'll start by asking you a question. Who among us is the eldest do you think?"

Steel looked at Sapphire, then shrugged and turned back to Air. "I don't know. One out of you, Fire and Earth, I would say."

Air nodded. "Don't you find that curious?"

Steel shook his head. "Each one of us that is created is an echo of someone lost into time. As an echo we are shaped into something that that person considers one of the fundamental building blocks of their world. In ancient times those elements were Earth, Air, Fire and Water. These days they are things like Photon, Tau Neutrino, W, Z, Strange and Charm." There was a note of disapproval in Steel's voice about the fads of the young, with particular disdain for Charm who, Sapphire felt, embodied all the aspects of Silver that Steel found most irritating.

Air raised an eyebrow.

Sapphire clasped her hands together, quickly reviewing the conversation from the past thirty seconds. "Where is Water?" she asked.

"Indeed," Air said.

Steel frowned. "Has there ever been a Water? Maybe they were very old. All echoes fade eventually."

Air shook her head. "I have no memory of a Water; I find that very strange."

"And you've never wondered about it before now?" Sapphire asked.

"That is very strange as well, especially considering that the current moment is so unusually difficult," Air said.

"There have been a lot of missions." Steel said. He said it like a fact but Sapphire could tell it was intended to press for more information. She hoped he wasn't as transparent to Air as he was to her.

Air just nodded.

"We've been stretched thin for some time. Time is constantly breaking through," Sapphire added.

Air nodded again. "I think we are fighting the symptoms of a bigger problem."

"And that problem is related to Water's absence," Sapphire said.

"Suppose there was a Water up to, say, forty years ago. That was when things became noticeably more chaotic." Steel said. "Then something happened so that Water was unmade. Water became a never was. That would be a massive disturbance. It would create echoes and crises throughout the web of time."

"Your thinking concurs with mine," Air said.

"But who or what could be powerful enough to do such a thing?" Steel asked.

"I might be able to, just, if I knew enough about the being I wished to excise. If, for instance, I knew the point where the echo was formed," Air said.

"But to go back so far in time to change something like that. That must be virtually impossible," Sapphire objected.

"It would depend upon many things, luck among them, but I think it is just about feasible."

Sapphire realised where the conversation was going. "You think it was one of us that did this, one of the most powerful."

"Fire or Earth, then," said Steel.

"Or possibly Aether. They are very old too," Sapphire added.

Air nodded. "Earth's echo has almost faded. He is sleepy and difficult to waken. I think it unlikely it was him."

"Fire has always been difficult to deal with," Steel said.

Air nodded. "I would tend to suspect Fire, but I have no evidence."

"Why are you telling us this? Can't you investigate on your own?" Sapphire asked.

"I believe Fire watches me closely. It will be difficult to do much without catching his attention. The two of you, on the other hand, are a relatively new team, possibly beneath his notice and yet you have been remarkably successful."

"Is there anything more you can tell us? Any idea how this might have been accomplished or what signs that might leave?" Steel asked.

Air shook her head. "I have little more to give you, beyond an assurance that you will not be entirely on your own."

Sapphire, who was sensitive to such things, saw the slight shimmer as Air altered her own composition. She felt a faint breeze brush across her face and lift her hair. 

_Sapphire breathed in_

* * *

"We have nothing to go on. No idea how the removal of Water from the time-line could have been accomplished or even if it happened at all."

Steel was pacing up and down in frustration. Sapphire had created a null space for them. She had kept it small and hoped it would thus be inconspicuous. Inside the null space, their actions, words and thoughts would not be visible. They were taking no chances.

"If all the current temporal breakthroughs are linked we might be able to trace them back to a cause," Sapphire mused.

"Is that possible?" Steel asked.

"It would be difficult. They go back a long time and while I can manipulate and trace time a little, I'm more used to working with minutes than years," Sapphire said.

"If Water was as old as Fire, Air and Earth, then you will need thousands of years to find their origin."

"Maybe I could help, if you would let me in?"

Sapphire and Steel both turned to see Silver hovering at the edge of the null space.

Sapphire waved a hand, allowing him entrance.

"So kind," he said, brushing the lapels of his suit, as if the suit and any dust upon it was something he hadn't thought into existence himself.

"How did you find us?" Sapphire asked anxiously.

"Well, I do know you pretty well. I reasoned that you would create a null space and then it was just a matter of looking for one."

"What made you think we might need a null space?" Steel asked suspiciously.

Silver looked mildly surprised. "Oh well, I've been talking to Aether."

"No one talks to Aether," Steel said. 

Silver raised his eyebrows, "Well I just did. They said to say that Fire was looking for you. I think Air may have underestimated how suspicious summoning you might look."

"Well that at least confirms that Fire has something to hide," Steel said.

"Fire is very powerful. I'm not sure there is much we can do against him," Sapphire said.

Silver smiled gently, "but I'm here now."

"With all due respect..." Steel began.

Sapphire gasped. She heard a rushing sound in her ears, a combination of a mighty wind, drumming hooves and the calls of frightened animals.

"Fire comes," she said.

Instinctively she began throwing up barriers around the null space. Fire rushed down upon them, a blazing wall that carried all before it.

"Time to go! Catch!" Silver tossed something at Steel and then vanished, just as Sapphire's barriers crumbled.

"Sapphire!" Steel cried out and then they were consumed.

* * *

The years unwind.

* * *

The machine stood in pride of place in the centre of Madame Lavigne's study. It was getting dark and a maid had entered to light the Argand Lamp. Of late, Madame Lavigne had been working into the small hours on her device. Once the lamp was lit the maid stoked up the fire in the grate and placed the fire guard before it.

The maid cast one last glance at the twisting edifice of metal and glass on the desk with the delicate basket that would hold the gem in pride of place. Then she left, shutting the door behind her.

The fire in the grate flared. The lamp fell. Glass smashed and burning oil slicked across the table. Moments later half the room was burning and the delicate metalwork of the machine twisted. It was half an hour before the fire was discovered and by that time nothing remained of Madame Lavigne's study.

* * *

And the years unwind some more.

* * *

The beast at the heart of Brocéliande was hungry. It was an age since it had fed and hunger was drawing it forth. It was almost mindless, a fragment of a thing, lost and alone and when it didn't sleep, it ate.

Somewhere in the forest was prey and so the hunt began. As the beast passed through the undergrowth, flowers withered. Leaves turned first brown and red with autumn finery, then curled and dried on the branch until they fell finally, lifeless to the earth. The trees endured, for trees have roots and branches that spread far in ground and air and time.

A road now ran through the forest. The humans must have put it there while the beast slept and a knight would be coming along the road. Not just now, but close enough in time that the beast could feel it. It gaped wide its maw and waited.

Then the fire came. The beast ignored it. Fire could not harm time. It was with surprise that the beast felt the flames fall upon it and before it was truly aware of the danger, it had been consumed. The forest fire swept on.


	2. A Knight who Understands not his Quest

Henri Sauverne sweated in the summer heat as he sparred with Etienne de Paimpont's sword-master. He could tell already that the man was better than his father's sword-master and he was now focused simply on not making a fool of himself, rather than trying to impress.

The sword-master knocked Henri's blade to one side and gave him a swift tap on the chest.

The onlookers clapped politely and Henri stepped back, ready to begin again. However he saw that de Paimpont and his father, Robert Sauverne, were now approaching, tacitly signalling that the bout had ended. Henri allowed himself to relax slightly and he gave the sword-master a bow.

"You are very good," he said.

The man nodded. "But not so good as my master."

Henri looked towards de Paimpont to see how he reacted to the praise. The man barely seemed to register it. He had been on the second crusade, so Henri presumed he knew how to fight. The fact he appeared neither pleased nor embarrassed by his sword-master's words suggested he considered his prowess a matter of fact. de Paimpont stood in calmly in the bustle of the chateau's yard, his blond hair blowing in the slight breeze. 

"You both fought well," de Paimpont said and Henri saw his father beam proudly at the man's shoulder. "However, if you are to be changed in time for dinner you need to stop now."

He nodded at the sword-master who withdrew. 

"We look forward to feasting with you tonight," Robert Sauverne said. "Then we will need to get down to business.

De Paimpont nodded. "I have looked over the documents you brought with you. The proposal looks sensible, but there is much to be discussed. I have some business to attend to now, but I will see you both at dinner."

With that their host bowed and left them. Henri's father wished to arrange an exchange of land. The Sauverne territory was awkwardly strung out with parts almost entirely surrounded by land belonging to the de Paimpont family. The proposal was for a mutual transfer of ownership so each man possessed more consolidated territory. There would be bickering about details, but the general idea was clearly in both men's interests.

"You did well," Robert Sauverne said. "I could see de Paimpont was impressed."

Henri was less convinced. He found de Paimpont hard to read. "The sword-master had the better of me."

"I noticed. The man is well known. I tried to engage him myself but the option of working for the renowned Etienne de Paimpont was too tempting. However, if it pleases you, I might suggest you make an extended stay here to learn from him."

Henri nodded. His ability had long out-stripped the tutors his father had found. He also wanted to oversee the land negotiations. It was his own inheritance that was being bargained with, after all, and he wasn't convinced his father always took the long view.

* * *

Etienne de Paimpont paused by one of the narrow windows of the stairwell and looked at Henri and Robert Sauverne in the courtyard below. Henri Sauverne was an impressive swordsman and, though he did not seem as interested in the finer details of land and rent as his father, Etienne suspected he might have a clearer mind.

As was often the case when he was in thought, Etienne turned the silver signet ring that carried the family crest around on his finger. Etienne had three sons and one daughter. The heir to the neighbouring estate, provided he had good sense, would settle her future securely. Etienne resolved to discover more of Henri Sauverne's character.

* * *

The feast that evening was elaborate. Etienne suspected that Robert Sauverne was easily impressed by such things and he had instructed the kitchens appropriately. He seated Henri at the high table beside his father. The boy listened intently as they discussed local politics. Robert's understanding was superficial and often tinged with snap judgements and superstition. Etienne bit his tongue and put up with the foolishness. The conversation then turned to the crusade and the debacle that had been the Siege of Damascus. Etienne had to suppress another surge of irritation, though this time at the idiocy of Christian princes in general, rather than his well-meaning, if somewhat tiresome neighbour.

"I heard you brought a sword back from Damascus," Sauverne said.

"I did not get it in Damascus itself but purchased it from a very fine weapon-smith in Antioch who made swords for crusaders. However it was forged using the Damascus technique." 

"I would very much like to see that sword, and I imagine Henri would too. I understand it has a unique patterning on the blade."

Etienne nodded and signalled for the sword to be brought to the table. He was proud of his possession. Damascus steel was legendary and rightly so. The swords of the Saracens could cleave easily through the swords the crusaders had carried. Etienne had been pleased to track down a sword made out of the same material, but in a less outlandish shape. He liked to have the best tools available for any purpose.

Etienne unsheathed the sword carefully and laid it on the table before the Sauvernes. 

"All the Damascus blades are patterned," he lectured. "It is a side-effect of the way the steel is made in India where they heat it with charcoal. The pattern is then preserved by the annealing process when the blade is forged. The strength comes from carbon nanotubes forming as part of the annealing." 

Etienne broke off his explanation. He couldn't remember where he had learned some of this information or even what it meant. He felt a slight sensation of unease. It was a familiar feeling though he had never tracked down its source and had learned to ignore the sensation.

"You are very knowledgeable," Sauverne said. "I know little of the art of weapon-smithing."

"I like to have some knowledge of the things I use." Etienne glossed over the question, still feeling discomfited by the strange phrases he had uttered.

Etienne noticed that Henri was fascinated by the swirled patterns that drifted across the blade. The young man's fingers traced them up over the cross-guard and to the empty clasp in the pommel.

"Should something go here?" Henri asked.

"It is a space for a jewel, but I have never been able to find the right one."

"I know an excellent jeweller in Rennes, Pierre Gourcuff, maybe you know him?" Robert said.

"No, I do not." 

"I will make introductions at the first opportunity." Sauverne smiled happily. The man really was quite transparent. He must have thought the potential introduction would help with the bargaining.

Still, the sword needed a jewel to complete it. Etienne had neglected the issue for too long and now was the time to act.

* * *

Six month's later Henri accompanied his future father-in-law to the jeweller of Rennes. 

Henri had spent a great deal of his time, during those months, staying with de Paimpont. Initially he had been taking lessons from the sword-master and acting as a go-between of sorts as his father and de Paimpont exchanged letters and documents relating to the land deal. His father's would arrive via a selection of couriers, each painstaking written in his father's scrawling hand and sealed with the family seal. De Paimpont would read these expressionlessly and would then agree to some points, make minor changes to others and sometimes propose ideas of his own. De Paimpont then sent a new neatly written letter back, sealed with the plain device of two squares one within the other that was his family crest.

In due course the suggestion of a marriage came up. Henri could see many advantages, not least that Etienne might cease to be quite so vigilant in his dealings with the Sauvernes. It wasn't that de Paimpont was unreasonable, but he had a good mind for land and business and Henri felt that the de Paimponts had the better of their dealings so far. If it was his own daughter's future he was dealing with, de Paimpont might turn some of that attention to the improvement of Henri's own position. More letters went back and forth displaying the Sauverne crest in one direction and the interlocked squares in the other. 

Shortly before the wedding was due to take place, Pierre Gourcuff wrote from Rennes to say he had located a jewel that met Etienne de Paimpont's requirements and would he come to view it. Robert Sauverne's gout was playing up and, in any case, he was too busy organising the final details of Henri's wedding. Henri, anxious to escape from the all the arrangements, was more than happy to travel with de Paimpont and perform introductions.

"I hope you and Jeanne will be happy," de Paimpont commented suddenly as they rode along the rough track towards the city. "She can be high-spirited but she has a good mind."

Henri hadn't thought very much about happiness. Jeanne was a good match, and seemed both pretty and healthy. He also got the impression she had inherited her father's common sense which would no doubt lead to a well-managed household. If that was the case they would surely be content enough. It occurred to him, suddenly though, that de Paimpont had never remarried after his own wife had died.

"Were you and Lady de Paimpont happy?" Henri asked.

De Paimpont frowned as if considering the point. "Happy enough. We had plenty of children."

"But you never remarried."

De Paimpont laughed, a short sharp bark that had a strange edge to it. "That is a foolish indulgence. I have three sons. There is no need for more. Therefore I have no need of another wife, not unless, I suppose, the ideal woman were to come along."

"And what would the ideal woman be?" Henri asked.

"If you had asked me that when I was younger, I couldn't have told you, but now... Did you hear of the forest fire a few years back?"

Henri nodded. "It was the talk of half Brittany I think. It was so hot that summer and the fire raged for a full ten days. Several villages were lost."

De Paimpont nodded gravely. "It was a bad matter. I was in the Forêt de Paimpont the day it started. I had business that took me to Tréhorenteuc. When I got to the edge of the forest I saw that a fire had been through. It was then that I thought I saw a woman. Sometimes I think she was my guardian angel, for had I arrived in the forest a little earlier I would doubtless have been caught by the blaze."

"What was the angel like?"

"She had blonde hair and was tall, possibly taller than I am. She wore a blue dress, the colour of the sky, and her manner was calm and kind but with an edge of determination and sorrow to it."

"What did she do?"

"Nothing, one moment I caught a glimpse of her on the path and then she was gone."

"And that is your ideal woman."

"When one has seen an angel, one will not settle for something less, I think."

* * *

The jeweller's house was tall and narrow but the main room had a large window with a frame of scraped hide stretched across it. Pierre Gourcuff removed the frame to allow light, though also cold, onto the table on which he displayed his goods. The meeting started badly as the jeweller attempted to interest de Paimpont in a number of lesser stones. Henri could have told him not to waste everyone's time.

"I have no need of these topazes and opals. You brought me here to see the sapphire. If you do not have it to show, we will be gone. I have more important things to attend to," de Paimpont snapped before Gourcuff had even managed to properly start his spiel on how finely the jewels would adorn a wedding dress.

"Of course, of course! You are a busy man with a wedding to arrange." Gourcuff managed to sound both obsequious and mournful.

"The sapphire?" de Paimpont prompted.

"It was most fortunate that just after I received your instructions I had the opportunity to obtain the perfect stone!"

"I think I will be the judge of that," de Paimont said.

Henri saw the jeweller wince slightly and he felt some sympathy. The man would potentially have an expensive problem on his hands if de Paimpont did not like the jewel.

The jeweller unhooked a pouch from his belt and gently took out the contents. Henri gasped. It was a bright blue sapphire, but it seemed to have a star shining in its depths with six points radiating outwards to the edge of the stone. De Paimpont picked it up and stared at it silently, turning it around in the bright sunlight so that it cast blue flashes around the room. It was almost the colour of the sky, Henri realised, maybe a little darker in shade, but it made him think of de Paimpont's description of his angel's dress.

Eventually de Paimpont made a noise, almost a sigh. "Yes, it is exactly correct. I have brought the sword with me. If you can set the jewel now then I will pay you before we leave."

"I can have it set today, if you will wait," the jeweller said.

"We will wait."

* * *

Years passed.

* * *

It was cold in his rooms, even with the shutters closed and the fire stoked high. Etienne's fingers were in danger of going numb as he struggled with the quill and parchment on the rough table. The letter was proving harder to write than he had anticipated, but then he more than half believed the whole attempt was some foolishness of his dotage. Still, how does one address an angel? Etienne coughed and then shivered at the sensation of his own mortality. The cough had settled in with the damp of autumn and had lingered ever since. Henri and Jeanne had come on a visit and had remained. There was a vague pretence that it was to get the children better versed in Latin. Etienne the younger, as everyone seemed to refer to de Paimpont's eldest son, had hired a scholar all the way from Paris for his own children. It was the talk of every noble house in Brittany, de Paimpont had no doubt. But Etienne the Elder, now in his 81st year, knew they stayed because they sensed the end drew near. 

"My Dearest Sapphire," he had written, thinking of the blue of her dress and the sapphire that shone, as it always did, on the hilt of his sword. But there he had stalled. He had always disdained flights of fancy and this letter was a bigger one than many.

The sword lay across the table where he could see the jewel and it maintained his sense of purpose, even if he did not truly comprehend what it was. There was a solidity in the metal of the sword that made him think of something fundamental. The world, he had always been told, was composed of four elements but he vaguely recalled the Latin tutor mentioning a fifth element. Etienne could not recall what it was, but perhaps it was metal. That seemed to make sense to Etienne. 

The sword would be left to Henri. Etienne the younger would be angered, but Henri was the better swordsman by some way and had a good appreciation of the uniqueness of the blade. Henri also knew about the angel and Etienne had told that tale to very few people aside from his confessor. He would give Henri this letter as well. He had a certainty that the angel would find it somehow.

_I do not understand the bond between us, only that it is real, and binding, and that it has survived some catastrophe that surpasses all my understanding. I glimpsed you only once, in the aftermath of a forest fire and you vanished instantly from my gaze. I know not who or where you are now but I trust to divine providence that some day this letter will find you. I sense that this will take more years than I comprehend. Those around me would tell you that I seldom act on the prompting of my heart, but I seldom act against it either and certainly not when it has such certainty as this. I have a sword made of sapphire and steel. I have held it many times and I have thought of you. You must find it. Against all reason, I nevertheless believe that it will somehow lead you to me. I know this to be of utmost importance, but I do not know why._

_I have never loved any other but you which is the strangest thing of all. It goes against all sense and reason. Still my heart is yours alone._

_Etienne de Paimpont._

* * *

When Jeanne came to fetch her father down for supper she found him dead in his chair. His head had sunk low on his chest as if in sleep. A letter was folded in front of him with instructions in his firm hand that Henri deliver it to the angel and keep the sword in trust for her. A final incomprehensible act from a man who had otherwise only ever been known for intolerance of the foolish.


	3. Flotsam of the Chemical Revolution

"Do you understand this new chemical nomenclature of Lavoisier's?" Mademoiselle Huet asked.

Thérèse Lavigne turned to look at her. The mademoiselle was young and beautiful with smooth rounded features and red-brown ringlets. Thérèse had to forcibly remind herself that these days they were all citizens, the mademoiselle included, for all her delicate looks and pretty dresses.

The salon was crowded with people talking a little too loudly, their anxiety leeching through into the atmosphere. The pretty little citizen, however, seemed unaware of the tensions in the room. Thérèse recalled someone telling her the girl had an interest in science. It would appear that the interest was genuine.

Thér;èse smiled at her. "Lavoisier is seeking to categorise the fundamental building blocks of this world. Those things that can not be decomposed into any other. He then places these in four categories. You have the gases such as light, caloric and this new oxygen substance that he proposes to replace phlogiston, then there are the oxydable and acidifiable non-metals like sulphur and charcoal, the metals such as silver, tin and zinc and lastly the earthy substances such as lime and alumina."

Thérèse touched the small sapphire that hung on a chain at her throat as she mentioned the last element. Seeing that she still held mademoiselle, no citizen, Huet's attention she continued. "This sapphire is a form of alumina, did you know that?"

The mademoiselle shook her head. "It's beautiful! It is as if a star shines at its heart."

"This is a star sapphire. It is of an old-fashioned cut. I purchased it a few years back. The man selling it said it was an heirloom from an aristocratic family that had fallen on hard times. Still it pleases me to think it is one of the fundamental elements that Lavoisier catalogues."

"I hear you have many theories about such gems," Citizen Huet said.

"Maybe," Thérèse conceded. "I have always been interested in them and their properties, their links to the stars and to time itself. There is much that science has yet to reveal about them."

She bit her lip and refrained from saying anything further. Her theories often elicited disdain. The time machine she had been building had been destroyed when her lab caught fire, and since then her attempts to supply a demonstration had foundered. She felt her husband's presence at her shoulder and a gentle hand on her arm.

"Citizen, you will excuse me if I briefly demand my wife's attention."

Citizen Huet nodded and Bastien Lavigne gently drew Thérèse away.

"I spoke to Citizen Pinochat. He is arranging a carriage to Calais for us as we speak," Bastien said.

Thérèse started in surprise. "So soon?"

"He was not prepared to wait. I think you are right that this revolution is getting out of hand. The Academy of Sciences was closed today. I don't think it wise to wait. Your nightmares have been getting worse as well."

Thérèse suppressed a shudder. Her dreams were full of death and destruction and inexplicable machines. Still, "Dreams are not rational," she argued.

"But the condemnation of the sciences is a fact. We should leave and we should leave now. If it all blows over in a month or two we can return. We must return home now and pack what we can."

* * *

Thérèse smiled graciously at her husband's friends. Bastien Lavigne was excitedly welcoming them into the small exhibition room at the British Museum. They were all French émigrés so the chatter was rapid and in her native language. She let it wash over her. Even though all well-educated Englishmen spoke French, it was nevertheless relaxing to be surrounded by people who spoke it fluently and without mangling the pronunciation. It helped take her mind off the small cramped house they were forced to live in and their uncertain circumstances.

"Your husband has collected an impressive set of swords," Madame Fleuriot commented, moving close to Thérèse's elbow. "Though I confess I've always found weapons rather dull."

"Every man must have a hobby," Thérèse remarked indulgently as Bastien lectured all who wished to hear on the wonders of Damascus steel.

She did not add that the small collection of medieval weapons were one of the few things of any value they had managed to bring with them when they fled from France, and that their sale to the British Museum, despite being cloaked in the guise of a generous gift, was actually ensuring that their future would be one of relative comfort, if not a great deal of opulence.

"And you, do you have a hobby my dear?"

Thérèse thought of her burned out study. She would never again have the funds for such an indulgence.

"I am a great follower of science," she said finally. 

"I've always found the new sciences so fascinating," Madame Fleuriot said in a tone of voice which suggested somewhat the opposite. 

"There are a lot of exciting things happening, particularly in Chemistry."

"Ah yes, poor Monsier Lavoisier, the revolution is a terrible evil to have taken such men from us," Madame Fleuriot said.

"His work lives on, particularly here in England." Thérèse smiled gently at her. "However I think Bastien is about to present the new sword, so we must pay attention to this at least."

The new sword had not been theirs and Thérèse had yet to see it. It had come to London with another refugee and Bastien had excitedly folded it into his deal with the British Museum. He was enthusing about it now as he stood behind the glass case.

"This sword has a long history. It is made from Damascus steel but has been designed in the European fashion with a straight blade. Only a few such were made and brought back to Europe by the crusaders. This is a particularly beautiful specimen."

Bastien continued talking but Thérèse found her gaze irresistibly drawn to the sword itself. Silver and black patterns swirled along the steel blade leading up to a strange void in the hilt where a jewel must once have resided. In her mind's eye it needed a blue colour, like her star sapphire. Their need had not yet become so great that that must be sold. For the first time, however, it felt out of place at her throat. Thérèse blinked and came back to herself.

"According to legend the knight who first owned this sword left it into the care of a mysterious angel who had saved his life. The story says he wrote a letter to her to go with the sword, but that has long been lost and only the weapon remains, a symbol of chivalry and love."

The audience clapped politely. Thérèse lingered by the case. 

"It is a very romantic story," Madame Fleuriot said. "and Mousier Lavigne puts it so well."

Thérèse nodded absently. She had never had a great deal of time for romanticism. She had known Bastien since they were little and they had always been comfortable together. Neither of them had been predisposed to exaggerated declarations so when he had proposed he had merely said he thought they would suit very well and keep each other happy, and she had agreed. So far she had not regretted the decision.

Still, something about the story and tugged at the edges of her mind. "I wonder what happened to the letter?" she said.

* * *

Thérèse's first port of call was Marquis Jean-Georges Lacourt, who had brought the sword with him from France. He had a small case of family papers, one of which mentioned the letter and said it had been sold to a collector in Paris. Another paper detailed the jewel that had once graced the pommel but that had been sold in Jean-Georges' father's day to raise money. Thérèse continued to write and correspond with a few people in France who might be able to find the letter and the jewel, but progress was slow for war raged across the continent. 

Bastien fell ill. The London fog was not good for his lungs and the air was damp and unhealthy. Thérèse took him to Cornwall, which was as close to the warmth of France as she could find. She became something of a connoisseur of the steam engines that pumped the water from the Cornish mines. Bastien's health continued its decline and Thérèse found she spent more time in their little rented cottage than she did exploring the countryside.

He smiled fondly and patted her hand one morning. "It is good of you to spend so much time tending for such an invalid."

"There is nothing I would rather be doing," she said and realised in that instant that this was true. It was as if she had both fallen in love and broken her heart in the same instant.

Bastien just shook his head and and patted her hand again. "This is not what I promised you when we got married. Here we are in a tiny little house, in this damp and cold country. No children; no family; so little."

"I would not be anywhere else," she said and was surprised at her own fierceness.

He sighed. "You are the best wife I could have hoped for."

Thérèse did not answer for she was worried the tears in her eyes would fall too fast if she said anything. 

By the following spring she was a widow and England was celebrating its victory at Waterloo. A letter reached her from one of her contacts in France. She had almost forgotten about the sword and its mysterious legend, but now she felt a renewed sense of purpose.

"The letter seems to have ended up in the possession of one Jacques Petit, who was an academician, and he in turn sold it to Herman Boerhaave, a Dutch botanist. I believe his library is now part of the British Museum," the letter told her.

Thérèse laughed out loud at that. The letter and the sword must have been so close all this time.

* * *

It was not difficult to arrange to read Etienne de Paimpont's letter. Bastien was still remembered by the staff at the museum and he had been well-liked. They were also excited by the possibility of a connection between the superlative sword and an unregarded letter that lay deep in their collection, catalogued but unread. The librarian hovered at Thérèse's shoulder in a mixture of anxiety and excitement as she smoothed out the heavy parchment and struggled to read the faded lettering and the medieval French.

It was a strange declaration of love. Thérèse felt as it it were spoken directly to her, even though reason argued she could not be the angel this man claimed to have seen.

"It is a strange account," the librarian said.

Thérèse nodded. "The angel must have been an effect of the heat from the forest fire. Some kind of illusion created in the air." She struggled with the concept, unwilling to think the man had merely been hallucinating despite the strange fervour of his tone but equally unwilling to believe he had actually seen an angel.

"Well," she said practically, "it certainly seems to describe the sword and Etienne de Paimpont is thought to have been the man who brought it from the holy land."

The librarian nodded excitedly. "This is a wonderful find."

Thérèse handed him back the letter and then went to see the sword again. As she walked through the turns of Montagu House she pondered Etienne's words. She wasn't sure why they burdened and irritated her so, an angry sense that the emotion was unnecessary and unwanted. They were both more and less than that. She took a deep breath and thought of Bastien and how the two of them would have laughed together at the earnest phrases and burning passion. She allowed herself a small smile: yes, she and Bastien had understood each other well. 

She stopped at the glass case holding Etienne's sword of sapphire and steel. The sapphire he had described was missing. Thérèse touched the jewel at her throat. She had not known what she intended until this instant, but now the thought came to her, sharp and clear. These things were meant to be together. The star sapphire and the Damascus steel would provide a path that linked Thérèse and Etienne. Almost without thinking, Thérèse removed the sapphire from her neck and prized the stone free from the clasp that held it. Then she stooped to take off one of her shoes and brought its heel down sharply on the glass. The glass cracked across, creating a spider's web. She rapped the shoe against it a second time and some part of her mind asked itself what she would do once the curators and archivists reached her. Then the pane shattered and she reached in. The sapphire fitted neatly into the empty socket on the pommel. Then she closer her hand about the hilt.

Time flowed out from her in waves. Traces of possibility hung in the air and paths of weakness cut routes through history. Thérèse felt the echo of someone else in her mind, someone who had the ability to follow those paths. She could see the museum curators running towards her and with them came a shadow of flames.

_She breathed out._

"Go that way," said the air that left her lungs. Thérèse turned and saw a path through time that led back along her own lifeline. She took it. Behind her, fire briefly flared in the wood panelled room of the museum and equally briefly was extinguished in a blast of air.

Thérèse walked through time and back to her own study in the house in Paris she had shared with her husband. Bastien would be downstairs reading _La Gazette_. Her time machine stood in pride of place on her desk and she looked upon it with new eyes, still drawing on the power in the sword that she held. It wasn't a time machine, that she knew, her ideas had been hopelessly muddled, but it was close enough to do damage. It would never have been allowed.

She looked at the fire burning merrily in the grate and thought of Bastien. She could put down the sword and go back to the life that she had had. She could let the fire burn its course. The putative time machine would be gone but Thérèse would be allowed to remain.

Or she could precipitate matters. Thérèse sighed a little and felt tears on her cheeks. She and Bastien had never amounted to much, real as their love had been. Events had overtaken them and left them as refugees on a foreign shore. He had been too ill to make use of his talents and she had always struggled to to get her own acknowledged. Instead she could take a partnership where things would be done and the world would become a safer place. There was vital work that needed a Sapphire to do it: beautiful, yet sharp and unrelenting. However there could be no Sapphire while there was a Thérèse Lavigne. She lifted the sword and bowed her head. "You had better be worth it, Etienne de Paimpont" she whispered. She prized the sapphire from the hilt of the sword once more and put it in place in the device. Then she reached out and set her time machine spinning. Distortions began to sweep through the room. She felt the mysterious guardians of time swarming to stamp out the problem, felt her own existence unravel. Thérèse Lavigne had never been. An echo of her lifted the sword, the sapphire back in its place next to the steel. The echo located the thread that would take her back to the sword's first owner and then plunged deep into time, following that thread to its source.

* * *

Sapphire stood on the edge of the great forest. Its name was shifting; by Thérèse's time it had been the _Forêt de Paimpont_ and, indeed, the Paimpont family were encouraging that name even now. But most people called it Brocéliande, a name that was full of magic and the hint of danger.

Sapphire stretched out her senses a little. She was a long way back in time and while she had walked on Earth among humanity many times, she had never done so in a time such as this. There was a grating sensation deep within her, a knowledge of how dangerous it was to come this far back, how much it would weaken the barriers but also, she gradually realised, something else. Deep within the forest a creature of time was stirring.

Sapphire took a step forwards along the path feeling the shape of the thing. It was a fragment only, a scion of time and the phrase echoed in her mind as if it should mean something to her. It was hungry and it was seeking food but it had yet to do any real damage. Further away at the edges of her awareness she could feel Air and Fire still locked in a conflict. If Fire got the upper hand it would rage through this forest, fuelled rather than delayed by Air.

Whatever it was Sapphire needed to do, she had to do it swiftly, before Fire achieved his aims. She looked at the sword in her hand. She did not yet know what it signified, nor why it had been the key to unlocking her existence. She paused and thought. On the face of things, Fire's intervention, destroying Thérèse's time machine before she could use it, had prevented a weakness arising. In the real time line, however, the need to patch that weakness had unravelled Thérèse's existence and created Sapphire as an echo. 

Slowly Sapphire looked behind her. There was a man on a horse entering the forest. She felt a heat in the sword in her hand and guessed that the same sword sat at his hip also. This must be Etienne de Paimpont. Fire could save him from the creature of the forest but in doing so something other, something right, would be lost. Sapphire turned and began to walk along the path towards the creature. In the distance Etienne followed.

Sapphire picked up her pace. Both Fire and creature were bearing down upon them now. Then she reached a point of clear certainty and halted. The creature howled through the trees. She could feel its coming as a shock-wave of distorted time. Back down the path, behind Etienne, smoke was rising as a black smudge all across the horizon. 

The knight was dressed in grey. It had been a hot day and he wore a fine linen shirt and woollen breaches. He had blonde hair and a slightly lop-sided, though not unhandsome, face. He halted his horse and dismounted cautiously, before walking towards her.

"Who are you?" he asked. "I feel as if I should know you."

"I think you do, though I am not sure of the shape of it yet. But I need you to take my hand. We have a road to travel together."

Etienne held out his hand and placed it in hers.

"That sword could be the twin of mine," he commented, "apart from the jewel in the pommel."

"It is a little more than a twin," she said.

His hand was cool and firm in her own. She turned them to face the creature.

"What is that?" he asked and there was an edge of fear in his voice.

"It is the road we need to travel, but I think it is also death of a kind. Have you the courage?"

"With you at my side, I will always have the courage. Is that not strange?"

"Everything is always strange. That is how the universe works." Sapphire gripped Etienne's hand and together they plunged into the maw of the creature.

Sapphire felt the thing feasting on Etienne's past and future, while his echo continued holding her hand. The sword melted away, a thing never created.

"This thing is part of whatever Fire did," Steel said, his hand still tightly clasped around hers. "Follow it Sapphire! Follow it back to the start!"

And Sapphire did, pulling on all her power and flying down the pathway that lead to the event that had spawned this thing and thrown it forwards in time. All the time Steel was at her side and they plunged together into the unknown.


	4. Fire on the Water

Together Sapphire and Steel stepped out of time and onto the deck of a ship. It took Steel moments to make an assessment of the situation. The ship appeared to be of primitive construction. It had a mast, but that had been smashed and all that remained was a jagged stump. It appeared there had also been oarsmen, but there was no sign of them. The boat was burning. All around them upon the water, was the flotsam of human lives, roofs of houses, upturned carts, the bodies of people and livestock. Much of that was burning as well.

Directly before him stood two children, a girl and a boy if Steel was any judge. They had olive skin and dark hair and were wearing clothing that was draped and pinned. They clutched each others' hands tightly and stared out over the prow of the boat to a huge gaping tower of darkness that roiled across the sea, blotting out half the sky.

The boy turned towards the girl and his eyes were bright with determination.

"I'm sorry Myrrine," he said and then he pushed her so she fell over the side of the boat and into the water.

"Sapphire, take back time," Steel shouted.

Almost instantaneously the girl was standing on the deck again.

The boy scowled. "I'm sorry Myrrine," he said. Then he pushed.

"What is going on?" Steel demanded.

Sapphire held out a hand and he could see her straining to understand this slice of the past while at the same time keeping the time loop going.

"I'm sorry Myrrine."

She turned to him, a smile that hinted at triumph lingering in the corners of her mouth.

"It is Fire and Water," she said. "They were made together. Now Fire is trying to prevent the making of Water."

"Where are we?" Steel asked as Fire pushed Water over the side once more.

"This was Atlantis, something went terribly wrong here. Something huge and powerful broke through."

Steel looked at the vast dark void again. It appeared to be closer to the boat.

"That is moving through the time loop," he said.

"It is a thing of time. It consumes time. The loop is attracting its attention."

"Can we stop it?"

Sapphire shook her head. "It's too powerful. I think the only thing that stopped it first time around was the loss of the two children, the paradox of their non-existence and the creation of the echoes halted it long enough for our people to contain it."

"So if only one gets consumed?"

"Then it fragments, losing scions of itself through time. Like the one that Etienne met in the forest. Like the ones in the house with the nursery rhymes."

Steel looked at the children on the loop before him.

"I'll catch the girl. Fire isn't strong enough in this form to stop me."

"Steel, if we stop this gap, then the scion that consumed Etienne de Paimpont will never have existed."

"Is that relevant?" Steel asked. Was there was a hint of bitterness in his voice, he wondered. He wasn't sure and chose to ignore it. The question was logical.

Sapphire fell silent but her look was one of sympathy. Sympathy was also irrelevant.

He moved to stand near the girl.

"Are you ready Sapphire?"

She paused a slight frown on her face. "What happened to Silver? He was with us when Fire came. If we can remember him then he wasn't unmade."

Steel glanced down, Etienne's signet ring still sat upon his finger, incongruous now Etienne never existed. He took it off and held it up. He felt Sapphire at his shoulder peering curiously at it.

"It is a sign for aether, the fifth element in Greek thinking," Sapphire said.

"Silver said he had been talking to Aether."

Sapphire smiled ever so slightly. "How very clever. Silver you had better come out now."

The ring slowly unfolded, separated and became two figures; the slightly apologetic form of Silver, and Aether. Aether's form was humanoid, lithe and delicate yet devoid of feature. Aether had always held aloof from the rest of them and had always defied easy description.

"This is my mistake," Aether said and their voice was like chords of music, both high and low singing across the water.

"I was young and thought I could handle things myself without the aid of the others; of Light, Dark, Dust, Metal, Bone and Wood. I was wrong. But now it is different. You have done well to carry us here."

"It was nothing," Silver said with an incline of his head. "Steel did most of the work."

Aether turned and ran along the deck. As they ran they seemed to grow wings and fly. Finally they leaped from the prow of the boat and plunged into the maelstrom that was bearing down upon it.

Sapphire dropped the time loop. Steel dived forwards, scooping up both the children in his arms as the shock-wave of inrushing time pulled at them. Moments later Sapphire was by his side. She pulled the children from him.

"The anchor!" she shouted.

Steel looked and realised the whole boat was being pulled towards the time storm. Silver was clinging onto the broken mast his eyes casting around, clearly looking for something he could work, however Steel knew that wood wasn't really Silver's strong point. Sapphire was correct, the anchor was needed to hold the boat firm. Steel staggered to his feet, straining against the winds of time. He left Sapphire and the children crouched low against the prow. Steel fought, step by step, up the deck to where a huge bag of stones lay, attached to a long chain. Carefully he hoisted the heavy object in his arms and then tossed it overboard. The chain ran rapidly over the side and then it jerked to a halt. They were mere metres from the edge of the storm. Steel wrapped one arm round the broken mast with Silver as the storm turned into a whirling tornado that was sucked into a vast whirlpool which finally exploded outwards. He felt Aether shatter into a thousand echoes. He felt those echoes find their way through time. One, he knew, fell into the Forest of Brocéliande.

Sapphire lifted her head and stood up. She was as graceful, calm and beautiful as ever. She walked along the deck towards them, leaving the children behind to live out their lives as humans.

"I wrote you a letter," Steel said.

"Etienne wrote me a letter," she chided gently.

"It..." He paused, uncertain whether to say it had been human things he no longer felt, or that he still meant every line keenly.

Sapphire placed a gentle finger on his lips. "It didn't tell me anything, I didn't know already."

She inclined her head to one side and her smile was a little rueful and a little sad. Steel caught her hand and kissed it gently.

"If you two have quite finished," Silver said.

Sapphire laughed gently and joyfully.

* * *

Silver, Sapphire and Steel turned and walked back into the flow of time.


End file.
